Twas the night before launch day, when all through Cali.

Not a creature was stirring, in the entire Valley.

The press releases were sent to the media with care,

In hopes that the punters and paparazzi would all be there;

Steve Jobs was nestled all snug in his bed.

With visions of acquisitions dancing in his head.

And Woz in the kitchen, and I in the sack,

Had just settled down for a pre-launch day nap.

It had a broad face, and neat rounded corners,

That shook when it rang like an executive at Time Warner.

It was sleek and quite bright, a right jolly phone,

And I cried when I saw it because I could not take it home;

A wink of its screen and a touch of a finger,

Soon gave me to know that I should not linger;

I spoke not a word, but went straight to the office,

And opened the package that Steve had just brought us;

It sprang from the package, and I looked on in fright.

At the features: An iPod! a Phone! a Headlight?

But I stopped then and looked and just as I feared,

This was no phone at all, it could only be used with Cingular…

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